


The Red Carpets of Wellington

by durinsprinces



Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs in a Car, Come Eating, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Public Hand Jobs, for some reason, that's a thing i do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 20:40:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3992029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/durinsprinces/pseuds/durinsprinces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After going home to Ireland at the end of filming, both Aidan and Dean are excited and more than ready for Aidan's return to New Zealand for the premiere of The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey. After a long, near five months apart, neither of them know how they're going to keep their hands off each other long enough to appear as just friends in the public eye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Red Carpets of Wellington

**Author's Note:**

  * For [killaidanturner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/killaidanturner/gifts).



> I'm going to start this out by saying happy (late) birthday to my dear friend, [Alaina](http://filiandkiliheirsofdurin.tumblr.com).  
> After passing this idea back and forth, I decided I would write this as a gift for her. It was originally supposed to be this nice, decent sized smut fic. But, as always with everything I touch, I had to add some (way too much) plot into it. So as much as a gift as this is for her, credit also goes to her for helping with the idea of the whole fic. 
> 
> She's quite an inspiration for my trashery. 
> 
> Secondly, tags will be added if they arise, at this point in time there's not much to tag. Public handjob won't actually be like, in public for everyone to see. It's really just one dude. Light bondage, maybe light d/s, will take place in a later chapter. Like. Using a tie as restraints, pretty much.  
> Just thought I'd throw that out before people get invested if they're not into those things.  
> I don't have a beta so all mistakes are on me.  
> I think that's about all I really wanna say right this second.  
> [follow me on tumblr](http://durinsprinces.tumblr.com) if you want to.  
> [ask box](http://durinsprinces.tumblr.com/ask) is always open to requests.  
> i mean. if you want what should be a 4k oneshot turned into a 50k multichapter fic.

Days began to jumble into nights and nights rapidly turned back into days. Time continued to move forward, never stopping to listen to the desires for it to slow down; even just a little.

As the end of filming drew to a swift close, Dean didn’t think he would ever be ready for the day he had to give Aidan up. After spending the greater part of eighteen months together, it was difficult to comprehend not spending any time with each other at all.

There had never been any doubt in Dean’s mind about whether or not Aidan should go home. Of course he should. He never explicitly told Aidan so, but he figured it was something the man had already come to terms with. So when Aidan finally brought up the big question they had both been dancing around for a while, Dean forced himself to immediately cut down that seed of false hope before it could really begin to grow in either of their hearts. Really, Aidan should be grateful for it. He was doing them both a huge favor in the long run. Aidan absolutely could not stay in New Zealand.

When Dean went with blunt honesty instead of beating around the bush, as he always did, it only caused a huge argument over whether or not he even wanted Aidan to stay here, if Dean was just going to forget him when he left, and if the last year meant anything to Dean _at all_.

As if the last seventeen months weren’t the best of his life. As if he hadn’t bore his entire soul to Aidan and let him pick it over and pry it apart, piece by piece. As if letting the man fly back to a country half way across the fucking world wasn’t killing a tiny part of him day in and day out.

Hearing Aidan shouting all of those things in his face felt like a million tiny, little cuts all over Dean’s skin. It seared and stung and he felt like he could bleed out with every plea he wanted to give voice to for the man to stay in New Zealand with him. It was unbelievable how much it _hurt_ to know Aidan would eventually board a plane set for Ireland with a one way ticket stuffed in his wallet.

But he couldn’t let him stay. He wouldn’t do that to him. Not to Aidan. He wanted him to be successful and happy and Dean knew a part of him still longed to be back in Ireland with everything he knew and loved.

Almost everything.

Knowing no better way, Dean soothed Aidan’s fiery temper by grabbing the collar of his shirt in both hands and yanking him down into a rough kiss; all tongue and teeth. Aidan didn’t even fight against Dean’s hold, just let himself melt into it instead. He needed the proof that Dean still wanted him. Deep inside, Aidan knew that he was overreacting; making up lies in his own head to rationalize the truth he didn’t want to admit to himself. Admitting it meant accepting it. Accepting it meant Dean was right and he would have to go back home.

His own hands wasted no time in slamming Dean back into the wall behind him. Anger slowly dissipated as a flood of lust washed it out, and Aidan returned the kiss with an insatiable desire paralleled only by Dean’s.

That night, Dean put every beg and plead and appeal into each touch of his hands on Aidan’s body, every kiss and scrape of his teeth on his skin, every slow thrust of his cock inside of him as he savored and committed the sounds the man made to memory.

They were both spent and exhausted from the fight and the subsequent make up sex, so when Aidan pressed himself close, paying no mind to the sticky mess they made between them, the last thing Dean expected was whispered apologies soft against his skin.

“It’s okay, Aid,” Dean mumbled, fighting off the sharp need to sleep. “I know you didn’t mean it.” A hand carded through the thick tangles of Aidan’s hair, tugging lightly at the knots he himself had created. Well, some of them, anyway.

It’s not that he wasn’t still a little angry at Aidan’s accusations, but he understood how the man felt. This was just as awful and heartbreaking and difficult for him as it was for Dean. With no other outlet for his frustration and anxiety, Aidan had lashed out. And while it was hardly appreciated, Aidan was truly sorry for his harsh reaction and Dean wouldn’t let his wounded pride get in the way of putting it behind them and moving forward.

Aidan pressed his head against Dean’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart underneath his ear. The world felt like it was closing in around him, backing him into a corner, and he wondered how many more times they’d get to do this.   

“What does this mean for us?”

Dean had barely caught the words spoken so quiet against his skin as darkness rapidly began to fall around them. He let himself think about it for a minute, his fingers absently scraping lightly against the scalp underneath them.

“You’ll go back to Ireland and I’ll stay here,” Dean started, feeling Aidan immediately stiffen against his chest.

“That’s it, then?”

Dean could tell he was trying to keep the agitation out of his voice but it still peppered the edges of his tone. Even so, it couldn’t cover up the underlying desire for more; _tell me there has to be more._

“You didn’t let me finish,” Dean couldn’t help but smile a little as he let his hand tease the hair at the nape of Aidan’s neck, listening to the muffled apology that didn’t sound the slightest bit sincere. “You’ll go home. I’ll stay here. We’ll text and Skype and call each other when we can. You’ll go to auditions and I’ll go back to filming Johnsons,” Dean could feel Aidan slumping against him. “We’ll see each other at the premieres and—“

“What if I don’t want to go home?” Aidan furrowed his brow, his thumb tracing little, invisible circles on Dean’s stomach. The last ditch effort was blatantly obvious even to his own ears, but he had to try. Picturing a life where Dean only existed in words on a screen or lagging video chats was almost too painful to think about.

“But you do,” Dean reminded him gently, his thumb sliding down the back of his neck, trying to soothe Aidan even though he knew nothing would pacify this particular brand of ache.

“I know.” The resignation was plain and honest and upset him to admit, but Aidan wanted to see his family and continue working and he wanted to be mad at the world for how unfair it was to put this man in his life, and then rip him right back out. But he couldn’t find it in him when Dean was rubbing his warm hand over his shoulders, his heart slowing to a soft, measured thump, and his breaths deepening as he started to drift off.

Aidan watched the steady rise and fall of Dean’s stomach, his mind too busy and full to entertain the idea of sleep right now. He wasn’t willing to lose Dean completely, and if that meant he would have to live off of texting and phone calls, he was willing to do it. It wasn’t ideal, but not being with Dean at all hurt more than seeing him only once or twice a year.

It was never discussed or mentioned to not dwell on what was to come; just another one of those little things their minds seemed to synch up together on.

Instead, they vowed to make the most of their remaining time with each other. Dean made sure to take Aidan to as many of the places he loved and Aidan made sure they fucked in every room of the small home they shared.

Taking as many pictures of Aidan as the man would allow him was on Dean’s personal list of the many things he needed to do before Aidan returned to Ireland. Some he developed and framed, while others he simply kept safe as digital copies on his computer. Every single one he loved and cherished and his hard drive was soon filled with pictures and videos of him, and them together.

Teaching Aidan how to use the camera had been a rather fun day for both of them, but Dean hadn’t really given any thought as to why Aidan wanted to know how to use it. When Dean unexpectedly found himself becoming the subject of Aidan’s interest, he couldn’t help but feel obliged to allow the man to take all the pictures he wanted. It was strange to have the camera turned on him in such an intimate way, only really ever having been the one taking the pictures.

But he was able to find appreciation in it, as he always had with everything Aidan did.

Teaching him how to use the darkroom had been a far less entertaining experience, one that ended in Aidan insisting Dean just develop all his favorite shots for him instead. Even so, Dean knew he’d treasure the memory just as he did all the others; the good and the bad.

Even with the lazy days interspersed between the busy ones, they still couldn’t delay the inevitable.

The eve of Aidan’s departure had finally closed in on them.

They decided to spend the night before his flight tangled together in bed, unwilling to move from each other’s presence for more than a few seconds. They could feel the minutes quickly ebbing away, so acutely aware that these were their last moments together for several months.  

Aidan’s back was hot against his chest and it only served to remind Dean of how cold the bed would be when the man was gone. The whole night was tainted with the feeling of melancholy and reluctant acceptance at what tomorrow morning would be. A small shared breakfast, forced cheerful conversation, a drive to the airport in early morning traffic, and the eventual moment Dean dreaded more than anything; leaving Aidan there at the airport and watching him disappear into the sea of meaningless faces.

But they were both determined not to waste their last night together, so it didn’t take long for Dean to hitch one of Aidan’s legs over his thigh, listening to the happy hum the man beside him made at the turn their night was taking. His fingers teased over Aidan’s entrance, reveling in every moment and every touch, as he leaned down to press their lips together. Aidan became loose and pliable under the kiss, his mouth opening to allow Dean’s tongue to trace over his teeth as his body responded to Dean’s attentions.

They stayed locked together for a moment before it became all too much and not enough at the same time. Aidan pulled in a shaky breath of air as a plea for “lube,” and “now,” tumbled out of his mouth.

Dean pulled away just long enough to search through the drawer on the bedside table before snatching up the little bottle tucked beside some discarded mail; far less important than anything they had done these last few days. He quickly slid in between Aidan’s long legs, one hand running up the length of a tanned thigh, while the other popped the cap of lube open.

The first stretch of Dean’s fingers always burned, but it was a burn Aidan would always love.

It reminded him of how willing he was to take anything for Dean. The pain never took long to wash away into a steady stream of pleasure with the skill of Dean’s fingers always working him open perfectly. How he was able to bring him right to the edge without letting him spill over it was still a mystery to Aidan, but one he honestly wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the secret to. It was just another thing he loved about the man between his legs, slicking up his perfect cock that fit so seamlessly inside of him.

They had started off unhurried at first, just shallow, relaxed thrusts as they remained determined to enjoy the moment together. With each moan from Aidan’s lips and each pass of Dean’s cock over his prostate, the revelation that this was yet another last time seemed to dawn on both of them. Gentle touches became impatient and rough, trying to cling to the last shred of what was left between them. Nails clawed at Dean’s back as he lifted Aidan’s hips in an attempt to bury himself as deep inside of the man’s body as possible, as if this one act would stop tomorrow from coming.

They tried to drag it out as long as they could, but their actions only served to drive each other wilder; almost feral as the need built higher and higher with each second. Aidan came first, spilling hard and hot on his chest with the most melodic noise Dean thought he had ever heard. The sight and the sounds the man made below him, combined with the perfect clench of his ass tight around his cock, pushed Dean over the edge. His hips made two more powerful thrusts before he shuddered in his release, spilling thick and wet inside of Aidan’s body. It felt possessive and raw and so perfect to him and Dean wished he could just stay in this moment for at least the rest of the night, if not the rest of his life.

He reluctantly pulled out of Aidan, watching his come starting to leak from his abused hole. Seizing his last chance, Dean gathered the slick fluid on his fingers as it dripped out, before bringing his hand up to Aidan’s lips, feeding the come into his needy mouth. Aidan moaned around his fingers, face flushing when his dick gave a feeble twitch of interest.

Dean couldn’t help but smirk at the man below him. Among all the other things, he would miss this so much, too.

After a quick shower, cut resentfully short, they both collapsed back on the bed. They wasted no time in linking their limbs together again as they pressed into each other as close as they could stand.

Sleep didn’t come as easily as it usually did, despite the luscious heat rolling off in waves around them from their shower. They both spent way too long lying awake in the dark, too afraid to let go of this last bit of time.

The alarms woke them up way earlier than they were used to; way earlier than they were ready for. The morning was a hazy scramble to get the last bit of packing done and a quick meal before they shoved into Dean’s car to make the trek to the airport. With each passing mile, a pit developed in Dean’s stomach. This was really it. Aidan was really going home.

What usually felt like a decent drive seemed like it had passed by in mere minutes, and with a sinking feeling, Dean parked the car in the parking garage. They both sat, just looking at each other. Dean felt as though if he looked away he would forget what Aidan looked like. He would forget the way his eyes nearly crinkled shut when he smiled and laughed. He would forget the way his eyebrows could pull into the most serious face Dean was pretty sure he’d ever seen. He was afraid he would forget Aidan.

Fingers unbuckled seatbelts in a frenzy to get closer to one another. Aidan pressed himself against Dean just as Dean was beginning to pull him forward. Lips met as a hand found the lever to lower down the seat. Neither would remember whose doing it actually was.

Aidan swung a leg over Dean’s lap and climbed into it, barely checking to make sure no one was around to see. They were early, and even if he missed his plane, well, Aidan wouldn’t lie and say he would be disappointed.

“Fuck, Aid. Now?” Dean breathed against his mouth, quickly silenced by his tongue being caught between Aidan’s teeth.

“We’ve got a minute,” Aidan mused as his hand slipped between them, his fingers sliding underneath Dean’s pants.

“A minute? Should I be offended?” Dean snorted, eyes fluttering when fingers grazed the head of his cock. He had been valiantly trying to resist temptation but when sin itself was stroking him with perfect fingers, his resolution quickly began to crumble.

“Nah,” Aidan answered against his jaw, teeth nipping tiny marks into his skin, “more like honored.”

“Aidan, we can’t,” Dean finally choked out over the sound of his belt being undone.

Not getting his way, of course Aidan resorted to pouting. “Why not?”

Dean almost rolled his eyes, but stopped himself. The last thing he wanted to do was fight or argue before Aidan left without a chance to make up. Even so, he had to put it in a way to make the man realize why this, of all times, was not exactly the best choice.

“Because you can’t go into an airport dripping come out of your ass.”

That seemed to do the trick as Aidan’s hands stopped fumbling with the fly of his jeans. “You make a fair point.” Dean watched Aidan’s face, watched him try and find a way around this revelation. “Switch places with me.”

“What? No way!”

“Why not? I thought you liked it when I fucked you,” the tone Aidan used was just unfair and Dean couldn’t believe he was going to let himself feel guilty for being the responsible, rational one in this relationship.

“Aid, you know I do. But we don’t have any lube or that much time,” he tried to reason with his boyfriend, watching his eyebrows knit together in what Dean could only assume was feelings of rejection. His heart hammered in his chest, wanting nothing more than to erase that look and replace it with one of happiness, love, and ecstasy.  “But if you get off and get in the backseat, I’ll blow you.”

Aidan’s eyebrows lifted, his eyes moving quickly in consideration. “That the best deal I’m gonna get?”

“Should have said you wanted to fuck before we left, Turner.”

Aidan sighed theatrically, like getting a blowjob was the most demanding task in the world, as he lifted himself from Dean’s lap. “It was between your cock and breakfast.”

“Well, I definitely feel honored now,” Dean couldn’t keep himself from rolling his eyes that time as his hand moved to pull his seat back upright.

Aidan pushed open the car door and quickly climbed into the backseat, motioning for Dean to follow when he got situated. His back pressed against the door and his long legs took up a lot of space across the seat, but as Dean got out of the front and slid into the back, he found that there was just the perfect amount of room between Aidan’s legs, as if he was meant to be between them.

“We have to be quick or you won’t make your flight,” Dean warned him, trying to keep the longing out of his voice. Even if it would only delay him a day, it was still one more day with Aidan. Even so, he was determined not to let that happen.

“Yeah, a real shame,” Aidan replied simply as a hand found its way into Dean’s hair, fingers running through the thick, blond strands. 

Getting Aidan’s pants open was hardly a difficult challenge, as he had opted not to wear a belt. Dean pulled them down a little, dragging Aidan’s briefs along with them. He always loved this part; watching each inch of Aidan’s skin being exposed. Usually he’d take a little longer to enjoy it, but they hardly had time to waste. So instead of ghosting his fingers over Aidan’s dick, just watching it get harder with each teasing touch, Dean leaned down and immediately swallowed the man completely.

“Fuck!”

Aidan’s curse was a lovely mix between a yelp and a moan and Dean wished he could have recorded it so he could listen to it over and over. He wanted to analyze every part of it, play it back until all he could hear was the sound of Aidan ringing in his ears.

He could feel the cock in his mouth growing, rapidly filling with blood inside Dean’s skilled mouth. His throat constricted perfectly around the head and Aidan thought he might blow right then and there. As much as he had been cautioned about their time constraints, Aidan wasn’t about to let Dean hold the title of _Minute Man_ above him for at the very least, oh, probably a good ten years.

Fingers tugged at the soft hair underneath them, while Dean continued to perfectly work his cock. He could curse the man for how well he knew his body, but Aidan was too busy losing himself in the sensations rolling through him with each second.

When Aidan glanced down past his dick sliding in and out of Dean’s perfect mouth, he could just make out the heavy outline of Dean’s erection in his jeans. He didn’t exactly know why, but suddenly it became so important to him for Dean to get off too. This was going to be their last time together like this and Aidan couldn’t fathom the idea that Dean wouldn’t be getting off to it with him.

“Dean, please,” he breathed out, his fingers tugging a little harder to get Dean’s attention. It wasn’t needed; Dean’s eyes never left Aidan’s face from the first second he swallowed him down. He gave Aidan a tiny hum in response, mostly to let him know he was listening, but also to hear the little moan it pulled from his throat.  

“Touch yourself for me?” Aidan asked, though it was closer to a beg than a request. Dean’s eyebrows lifted upwards, instead of voicing his question. He refused to move off of Aidan’s cock until the man came, not wanting to miss a single second of the feeling. When Aidan added another needy, little, “please?” Dean knew he couldn’t deny him anything.

His right hand absently groped around the floor of the car, looking for any scrap of fabric to clean up the mess he would make, while his left moved to trail a thumb over the sensitive skin of Aidan’s balls. When fingers met fabric, _a jumper_ Dean thought, he quickly snatched it up and shoved it over the seat underneath him. With that out of the way, he pushed himself to his knees. His neck and back had to dip at a strange angle to keep all of Aidan’s length in his mouth and throat, but in the moment, Dean didn’t have it in him to complain or care.

Aidan groaned low in his throat when Dean pulled himself out of his jeans. His fingers twitched to reach down and grab Dean’s dick, thumb over the tiny bead of slick leaking from the slit, but the angle wasn’t right for it and all he could do was watch. His desire grew with each bob of Dean’s head in time with his own hand.

“You look so good jerking off for me, babe,” Aidan purred, his hand tugging sharper at Dean’s hair as Dean gave a gentle squeeze to his balls. “Jesus, you’re so good at sucking my cock.”

Dean knew he was getting close. If Aidan’s mouth was free to run, he had a tendency to lose all control when he was about to come. Not that he minded. He absolutely loved the filthy things that spilled from his lips.

His hand sped up to bring himself to where Aidan was, loving the little noise Aidan let out as Dean jerk himself off faster. “You like sucking me off that much, huh?” he smirked down at his boyfriend, hips no longer able to keep themselves from bucking into Dean’s throat. “Fuck.”

The fingers in his hair uncurled before Aidan pressed a palm flat against Dean’s head. The hand held Dean’s mouth down, his nose buried in the thick, dark hair of Aidan’s pubes. He swallowed around the cock shoved down his throat, listening to the loud whine as he relaxed around Aidan. Dean’s eyes caught Aidan’s and gave him a tiny confirmation to go ahead.

When Aidan started thrusting roughly into his mouth, Dean about melted into the motions. He was far better at this than Aidan was, only occasionally gagging before forcing his throat to relax once more. Aidan, on the other hand, turned into a perfect little mess, gagging and choking and drooling all over himself as Dean fucked his throat.

Aidan could hear and feel the sounds Dean was making vibrating through his shaft. It urged him on, becoming increasingly more desperate to come down Dean’s tight throat. Dean’s eyes never left Aidan’s, even when they began to water from the sensation of being choked.

“You gonna come for me, babe?” Aidan asked, his voice low and tainted with lust. “Wanna see you come all over your hand from me fucking your throat.”

Dean gave Aidan one last squeeze to his balls, feeling them tighten as his other hand flicked perfectly, catching the sensitive, little bundle of nerves under the head. He shuddered and gagged around Aidan’s dick when he shoved it as far down Dean’s throat as he could manage. He could feel the warm splash of come spilling down his throat and allowed himself to let go. Dean groaned loudly around Aidan as his orgasm washed over him.

He released into his own hand, trying to get as much of it on the fabric below him. Dean’s mind was hazy as he tried to focus on too many things all at once; the sensation of Aidan’s legs shaking around him, the little pants he was making as his soft cock slipped from Dean’s mouth, the waves of pleasure rolling over his body as he started to come down.

When Dean was able to push himself up, he shoved his hand at Aidan’s mouth, loving that he didn’t even have to tell him to clean it off. Long fingers wrapped around his wrist as Aidan brought his hand closer to his lips, his tongue flicking out to draw the remnants of Dean’s release into his mouth.

After a small moment of just enjoying Aidan’s flushed cheeks and sly, little smile as he ate the come off of his hand, Dean finally had to put the morning back on track. He drew his hand away and wiped it off on the soiled clothing.

“Man,” Aidan grumbled as his eyes followed Dean’s hand. “I’ve been looking for that jumper...”

“Want it back?” Dean teased as he dumped it in Aidan’s lap. He couldn’t help but laugh as the man pushed it to the floor immediately, his face twisting like he was offended.

“Well I don’t want it, _now_ ,” he huffed.

“As much as I’d love to watch you pout all day, you’ve got a plane to catch, babe.”

Aidan let out a sigh, but nodded. He maneuvered himself in the backseat before pushing open the car door and stepping outside. He let his legs stretch out as he walked around to the trunk of the car. Dean met him there and helped him gather his things.

The natural, easygoing feeling between them was gone, replaced by one of empty resignation.

Neither said anything as they walked through the busy airport. Even as people bustled around them, the world felt as though it had narrowed down to just each other. When they were nearing the security check point, Dean couldn’t take it any longer, he had to touch Aidan one last time; more than just the small hug he knew was coming. Even with the moment they shared in the backseat, it still wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. That was an avoidance tactic; both of them so desperate to ignore the inevitable.

Picking a small nook away from as many prying eyes as possible, Dean pressed the man into the alcove while Aidan’s hands found their way to Dean’s hips. With one last glance around, he decided the coast was clear as Dean leaned up to press his lips to Aidan’s. The air felt like it was being pulled from his lungs when Aidan kissed him back. In the entirety of their relationship, never had a kiss meant so much to either of them.

Dean put everything that he had been struggling not to say into it. Every plea and beg and request for Aidan to stay with him was in the slide of his tongue, hot over Aidan’s as he leaned in just a little closer.

_Please don’t get on that plane, Aid. I need you here. Fuck, I need you. I don’t want you to go. I need you to be here with me. I want you to be here with me. Please. Please for the love of God, Aidan. Don’t get on that plane._

But Dean still couldn’t say those things to him. He wasn’t going to hold him back from the things the man still wanted to do, his family, and his home.

Just like Aidan didn’t hold him back from those exact same things by asking him to move to Ireland. Even though the thought had crossed both of their minds, it could never happen like that. Not yet, at least. Not while home was still the green valleys and hills of the islands, the black sand beaches and the heat of the New Zealand sun on Dean’s skin in the summer.  

Instead, he whispered “I love you,” against Aidan’s lips, afraid to say it too loudly. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to hide the sorrow in his voice and the temporary would feel far too permanent, forcing him to attempt to bargain with Aidan to walk away from his dreams and come home with him.

Dean went with Aidan as far as he was allowed until the moment of their separation was finally upon them. A small, polite hug that belied everything about them and their love was traded before Aidan had to get in line for the security check. Dean still stayed, watching him the whole way until he got sucked in by the crowd as he headed to his gate.

Right before he had to turn down the hall, Aidan glanced back to catch the last real glimpse of Dean he’d have in person for a long time. Aidan swore he could hear the sound of his heart shattering as he took in the face the man was making. It broke his heart in ways he never thought was possible. He watched as the strong smile Dean had kept on his face the entire time he was going through the security line crumble into a look of utter disbelief and pure, unadulterated grief and loss.

In that moment, Aidan almost pushed his way back through the mass of people, almost said “ _fuck it”_ ,to what they had thought they both wanted. But his head kept his feet walking forward even as he realized he was leaving his heart there in Dean’s hands.

To look after it for him, he reasoned, until they could meet again.

  
When Dean could no longer see Aidan, he walked out of the airport losing all sense of being as he made his way back to the car. He collapsed in the seat, feeling overwhelmed, exhausted, and lost. He didn’t know how long he sat there, staring despondently at nothing in particular. He could smell the beautifully tainted scent of their quick tryst but it did nothing to comfort him in his state of dejection. But he eventually got the courage to put the car in gear and truly leave Aidan behind. He was getting on the plane. He wasn’t going to suddenly appear in front of the car with that sunshine smile on his lips with a declaration of Dean being all he needed spilling from his mouth.

Even though he had promised himself he wouldn’t, he drove out of the parking garage and found a small space to park away from the sprawling airport and watch the planes take off. Dean couldn’t be sure which exact plane Aidan was on, but when enough time had passed, he finally reached down and turned the car back on. Well, that was that. Aidan was really gone.

Right before putting it in drive, Dean checked his phone and couldn’t help but smile at the string of texts already flooding his screen.  

The bathroom smells like piss.

Dean couldn’t help the explosion of laughter. Of course it smelled like piss, Aid. It’s a bathroom. 

I’m kinda hungry but none of this shit is appealing.   
You should have packed me a snack.   
I can’t find a free outlet. Why are there never enough outlets?   
It’s $9 for a bottle of water, Dean.   
9 fucking dollars.  


They’d been apart for a total of ten minutes before Aidan had found something to complain about. To be fair, Dean shared all of his sentiments about airports, and just seeing Aidan’s thoughts on his phone screen eased the dull ache in his chest a little. It didn’t soothe him completely, but he would take what he could get.

Just thought you should know, the guy at security touched my ass.  
You should come storm the airport. 

Dean about lost his shit, laughing louder than he should in an empty car pulled off on a backroad behind the airport. Although he figured there was no measure to how much, exactly, was acceptable. When he could breathe again, he blinked back tears of sadness or happiness he wasn’t quite sure. A mix of both, he conceded as he collected himself to read the last message on his screen. His heart thumped in his chest as he read and reread the words.

Fuck I miss you. 

The texts came to an end about twenty minutes ago, so Dean guessed the plane must have taken off. The sense of loss began to grow again as he really took in the knowledge that this was _permanent._ Maybe not forever, but for a long time. Aidan was gone. And he wasn’t coming back for a long time.

Aidan wouldn’t be returning to New Zealand for around five months. Which to Dean, might as well have been forever.

  
The flight to Australia was lonely and cramped and Aidan’s only solace was scrolling through the many pictures of Dean on his phone.

His plane landed in Melbourne and Aidan couldn’t help himself from sending out another string of texts to Dean about his experiences. This time, these were answered immediately and Aidan couldn’t help but be excited that Dean must have been waiting with his phone for Aidan to land.

He wanted to call him so bad, wanted to hear his voice in his ear.

But he decided against it, something in himself stopping him from doing it. It was undoubtedly for the best. Hearing Dean’s voice would probably have him on the next plane to New Zealand.

The flight from Melbourne to Dubai was a long and awful experience. Normally not one to mind babies, the constant wailing of an infant somewhere on the plane had Aidan wishing he had brought a pair of ear plugs. And maybe some sleeping pills. His music kept a respectable level was not nearly enough to drown out the sound of the baby’s shrieks.

The worst part was not being able to send or receive texts to Dean, and his heart felt heavy in his chest as he tried to will himself to take a nap once the child had cried itself out. It was going to possibly be his only chance to sleep if the kid woke up with a renewed desire to drive everyone on the plane crazy. It had already done a decent job so far.

Aidan pulled his arms out of his hoodie slowly, careful to avoid elbowing the passenger next to him in the face. Balling it up against the window, he turned it into a makeshift pillow and moved to lean his head on it. His heart hammered in his chest when he took in a breath and realized it still smelled like New Zealand. He could smell the sun and the wind and the hint of damp leaves that surrounded the islands. But underneath that, he could smell _Dean_.The smell of coffee and his deodorant were the most noticeable, but when Aidan artfully pressed his face deeper into the fabric he swore he could smell the metallic, chemical scent of Dean’s darkroom and the faintest trace of his body wash.

His fingers balled into fists, clenching tight against the rapidly building urge to cry. He wasn’t going to cry. This wasn’t an ending, it wasn’t forever, and he would see Dean again. Aidan repeated this mantra to himself several times before his chest stopped trying to wrack with sobs and the tears that threatened to escape dried before they could fall. Gradually, he started to open his hands until his fingers laid gently against his legs. There was no sense in getting himself worked up in such a public place and he still had hours left on a plane before his next layover.

He let the comforting scent of the hoodie and the calming sounds of the music in his ears lull him to sleep, eager to let the peace of darkness swallow him.

Aidan couldn’t be happier to land in Dubai, getting the chance to really stretch his legs and, hopefully, get away from screaming children. His stomach was more than ready for a meal and he couldn’t even deny himself from giving Dean a call this time.

After a much deserved piss and subpar airport food, gathered from several different kiosks, Aidan found a nice, secluded corner, feeling graced by God as he plugged his charger into the free outlet. It took no time at all for his fingers to dial Dean’s number. While he waited for him to answer, Aidan glanced around, looking to see if anybody nearby was searching for a seat before he took up the remaining chairs with his long legs.

Damn, it felt good to stretch out.

“Hey, Aid,” the voice filled his ear and Aidan felt a thousand times lighter when he heard it.

“It’s five in the morning and I’m tired, Deano,” Aidan promised himself he wouldn’t start by complaining, but he missed the man on the other line so much and this was a far better topic than that, at least, in his opinion. There was some shuffling in the background, something like a pot being stirred. “Are you cooking right now?”

“It’s lunch time, babe,” Dean replied simply before Aidan heard him chuckle into the receiver. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

Right. Time zones. Those were still a thing. As if the world would stop functioning as it once had for Aidan simply because he had a boyfriend that he had to leave all the way across the world. Well, why didn’t it? It really should.

“No, I didn’t forget,” he realized he was pouting, though it was mostly because he couldn’t see the wonderful smile that Dean no doubt had in accompaniment to his laugh, not to mention his dimples. “What are you making?”

“Just warming up soup,” Dean answered and Aidan felt a twinge of jealousy.

“The one from last night?” he asked quickly, his stomach giving a small protest over his meager dinner, or breakfast; whatever the hell it was.

“The exact one,” Dean chuckled again and Aidan almost pressed the phone closer to his ear to make sure he didn’t miss a single note of it. He missed the sound of Dean’s laugh, missed his eyes lighting up when he talked, the way his dimples poked out when he was happy and the tilt of his head when he looked up to meet Aidan’s eyes and he, _he just missed Dean_.

However, he couldn't bring himself to say it. He already said it so many times today. So instead, he asked about the weather.

Dean couldn’t hold back the snort at the question, obviously adjusting the phone so he wasn’t laughing directly in Aidan’s ear. “You’re asking about the weather, Turner?”

“Well, yeah, is that a crime?” Aidan scowled as he tried to be irritated with Dean.

“I suppose not,” Dean replied after he calmed down before humming in Aidan’s ear. Aidan just _knew_ Dean was looking out of the kitchen window now, assessing the sky for what the clouds might bring today. Aidan could almost see that faraway look in his eyes, the lost in thought expression on his face that he loved so much. His heart ached. His whole being ached. “I think it might rain later,” Dean confessed and Aidan almost couldn’t handle it.

He almost got up to reroute him and his things back to New Zealand.

Aidan listened to Dean chatter on about the things they usually talked about while taking comfort in his words and yet feeling insurmountable sadness from them.

When they were running out of things to talk about, Aidan opened his mouth to say it. The desire to tell him was too much. He was unable to hold it back anymore.

“I miss you,” Dean breathed into the phone, as if he knew exactly what Aidan was about to say. For a moment, Dean’s strong voice broke and Aidan could hear exactly how much he meant those words and how much he was struggling from their separation.

“You beat me to it,” Aidan chided Dean softly.

“I had to, you said it first earlier,” he stated as if Aidan’s previous confessions were some obvious infraction in their relationship.

“I miss you, too,” Aidan sighed into the phone, absently tugging at the hoodie that still smelled of his faraway boyfriend. If it retained the smell, it would quickly become his most treasured item.

Neither said anything for a few moments, just listening to the other’s background noise while sitting in companionable silence. But Aidan had to get ready to board his next flight, and he was sure Dean wanted to eat his lunch, having held off so Aidan wouldn’t have to listen to his noisy slurping.

“I gotta go, babe,” Aidan groaned after another minute of putting off hanging up. “Will you still be up when I land?”

“At three in the morning?” Dean could almost see Aidan’s face fall in realization and disappointment and the tiny muffled whimper Aidan made was enough to have him backtracking without the painful image in his mind. His voice took on a soothing edge as Dean decided he could miss some sleep for this. It would take Aidan time to get used to the time zone change and he knew how hard this was on him; how hard it was on both of them. “Yeah, babe. I’ll be up.”

“You don’t have to stay up,” Aidan began as he attempted to reassure Dean it’d be okay for him to go to sleep, even if he didn’t feel very okay about it, but Dean was quick to cut him off.

“I want to. I won’t be able to sleep until I know you got home safe.”

“It’s really not-“

“If you don’t call me, I’ll end up calling you,” Dean’s voice grew stern and Aidan tried to ignore the swelling of his heart at Dean’s concern and love.

“Really it’s-“

“Please, Aid. Just call me?” Aidan could curse Dean for using that tone with him. Dean knew how hard it was for Aidan to resist anything if he begged.

“I’ll call you when I get off the plane,” Aidan promised as he sat himself back up.

“I’ll be here.” 

“I love you.” Aidan’s voice sounded completely wrecked even to his own ears. Saying goodbye just didn’t seem to be getting any easier and he didn’t think it really ever would. He idly wondered how many more goodbyes like this he’d have to say over the next few months. Not to mention years, if this is how they were going to live now.

“I love you, too, Aid. I’ll talk to you in a couple hours, alright?” Dean was doing his best to reassure Aidan, but from so far away it wasn’t exactly the easiest task.

“Yeah, I’ll talk to you soon,” Aidan conceded, mumbling a quick goodbye as he stood up. Clicking the end call button was harder than he could have imagined, but he somehow got himself to do it. He gave himself a quick moment to stretch before slinging his bag over his shoulders and heading to the bathroom for one last trip before he had to board the plane.

How he was going to handle this for the next four months, Aidan had no idea.

The first thing Aidan noticed when he left the airport and entered the city of Dublin was how much he had missed the smell of Ireland. He had become used to the strange fragrance of New Zealand, but he had never found it exactly appealing.

Here in Dublin, Aidan could easily pick out the smell of the hops used in Guinness being brewed over the familiar scent of gasoline and roadways. Underneath it, he could pick up a vague hint of salt from the Irish Sea. Aidan knew if he headed west toward Kingstown, the air would slowly take on the dense aroma of brine. It was a scent Aidan knew and loved, but nowhere near as powerful and wonderful as the salty smell of Galway.

Aidan wanted to show Dean these things. He had spent the greater part of the last two years running all over New Zealand, sometimes quite literally. He had explored both of the North and South Islands with him. He’d experienced the merciless wind of Wellington, the commotion and flurry of Auckland, the stunning scenery of Queenstown, and so many more places with Dean.

Now he wanted to show Dean the towering castles and beautiful gardens of Kerry, the commanding crags and bluffs of the Cliffs of Moher, the truly solemn but inspiring services of St. Patrick’s Cathedral, and the aromatic Guinness Factory just to prove to him that Guinness really does taste better in Ireland. He wanted to take him round to the childhood home he grew up in. Aidan wanted to share with Dean everything that he knew and loved and what truly made him who he was.

New Zealand was a wonderful place. It was awe-inspiring, exciting, pure and natural. But in Aidan’s heart, it still couldn’t hold a candle up to what Ireland really meant to him. 

Even so, Aidan could already feel his heart calling him back to Dean; already counting down the days until his return flight to New Zealand.

  
Their relationship continued on, consisting in quick texts, varied lengths of phone calls, and scheduled Skype dates. Those were the best nights. They slightly eased the seemingly ever present ache to really see each other and it felt almost as good as being together in person.

But those nights always left the biggest wake of sadness after their frenzied wave of exhilaration.

The massive difference in time zones was the biggest issue for the both of them. Aidan was usually crawling into bed just as Dean was getting up for the morning. Staying up later and getting up earlier was not always an option, especially once Dean started filming with The Almighty Johnsons again. Aidan kept himself busy with auditions and interviews involving Being Human, which ate at a good chunk of his time.

While Aidan was thankful for the way time didn’t seem to be slowing down, but rather hurtling faster towards the premiere, it was like a double-edged sword. He got ever closer to seeing Dean again, yet he could feel the distance between them with every passing day that they were only able to send a few short texts.

The only thing keeping Aidan off the next flight out to Auckland was the tiny calendar he had hanging on his wall, each day marked off right before going to bed every night. He would remind himself he’d lasted this long; only fifty more days.

Only thirty more days.

Only ten more days.

Each mark was a badge of honor for his endurance.

The night before his flight felt so good to cross out and he couldn’t even feel bad about the massive quantity of texts he sent Dean in his excitement and anticipation.

In just under forty-eight hours he’d be able to see Dean again. He’d get to really see him, touch him, be near him, hold him, breathe him in; everything he’d thought about doing for the past four months will be his to do in just under forty-eight hours.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to state several things for the record just in casies. Gotta absolve myself of any inconsistencies and other things. So here we go, yeeeee.
> 
> I'm RPF trash and I'm so sorry for that, but I'm also not sorry. I realize this is all fictional, so I'm taking some license here.  
> What I did, basically, to form the idea for this fic was watched a shit ton of youtube videos and then took three videos in specific I found on of interviews at and about the AUJ premiere. (I will link them at the end of the fic, because I don't want to exactly "spoil" some things to come.)  
> I then formed a timeline around these specifically in hope that it would be relatively as plausible as possible. That being said, I didn't scour the internet for every detail about the events before, of, leading up to, taking place during and after the premiere. I have a general basic idea as to what could have happened in the relatively logical sense and let my RPF trash self run with it. So if it didn't go exactly like this, well, I wouldn't be surprised, as this is a work of fiction.  
> I'm guessing this is gonna be 5 chapters but it could be like 4 or 6. I have no idea.  
> Also I'm terrible with deadlines.  
> Also I really wanted to do something nice for Alaina and I kinda fucked it up but I mean, I'll finish this eventually. Hopefully soon.  
> FiKi week starts Sunday. So we'll see.  
> lmao i'm so sorry.


End file.
